Escape:Target D916 Book 2 |✓|

Chapter 26

Draven surveyed his surroundings thoroughly, internally, he counted. His eyes meandered over the weapons; riffles they were. He pondered the number of bullets they could convey, how long until they were out, what was the percentage of recoil, were they easy to maintain. He centered his consideration regarding their stance, how they held the weapon, their expressions. Were they confident or were they pretending to be tough?

These things were essential to Draven. Things he could utilize to anticipate moves, to foresee whether he would come out alive. He was pleased with his odds. They were a lot of cowards, he sensed it, however, some believed they could kill him.

He glanced at Ruairi; his smile dropped in light of the fact that Draven had silently translated a message to him. One that implied he would terminate every man inside the room.

"Kill him" Ruairi demanded and simultaneously Draven hauled himself backward in a flip, his feet left the ground, his momentum carrying him through the air before he landed behind a man, and their weapons raised and began firing however not at Draven. At the man he held, utilizing his body as a shield for Draven to draw nearer to attack.

Draven hadn't killed them, rather he set them in opposition to one another, they, killing each other.

At the point when Ruairi saw this, he ran for the door, yet the action didn't go unrecognized by Draven. Shooting a man through his knee, his elbow struck him in the face and hauled his blade out. Hurling it in the air over and over in timed twirls, he waited, anticipating Ruairi's move.

Ruairi crushed against the door and Draven flung the blade through the thick air, spearing Ruairi's left hand into the wall sending him off with a boisterous howl. Naturally, Ruairi reached for it and Draven twirled one more sharp blade in his hand, just to divert his attention regarding the rapid feet of a man running towards him.

Draven smirked, pivoting around the man, pummeling his foot in his face as he hurled the blade. He didn't have to look to realize it nailed the landing in Ruairi's right arm, he heard the shout.

Minutes of continuous blood splatter, Draven remained in the center, cleaning his sharp edge on the rear of a dead man's coat. He utilized his own to clear the blood off his face that didn't belong to him, yet others.

He glanced at Ruairi in a manner that shouted 'You're pathetic' as he continued to painfully extract the blade from his hand. Draven had intentionally picked his right hand and arm as it were his prevailing side, his strongest. "We should talk, shouldn't we?" He chuckled.

* * *

Sabrina scanned Junior's face, turning and tilting in all possible positions until he huffed, smacking her hands away. "Stop. I'm not the one with the bloody nose Sabrina"
"You come first" She stated.

" Well, I'm fine" He huffed, grabbing the aid kit, dabbing peroxide on a cotton ball causing her to hiss and he to apologize.

"Thank you" She whispered grateful but disappointed in herself once again. Jr smiled. "You're my sister. No thanking me for technically saving your life. Again" He laughed, teasing but he didn't realize how she took the words to her very soul causing her to feel even more shame.

But she wouldn't tell him that. How could she let her brother see her like that?

"No that's not what I'm talking about. Thank you for hiding as I told you to. If you came out, I wouldn't be the only one like this" She sighed gesturing to her beaten face. She hated the reminder of being beaten. First assaulted by her rapist, then Jane, and now a man.